Whistlestop

I've barely been in London this week, having been back and forth to Leeds a couple of times. I spent yesterday night in Ripon, which was different, to say the least. Getting dragged by my boss to a night club in Yorkshire on a Wednesday night was a surreal experience - to say nothing of the club itself, which took me back to my unlamented teenage years. I didn't even have any fake ID.

I had an uneventful journey back this afternoon, notable only for my stoicism in the face of the tempting (and expensive) treats on offer on the station concourse, spurning the delights of muffins, cakes and pastries in favour of the two-day old banana I had brough with me in my overnight bag. What a joyless individual I am. Thanks goodness I'm married - I'd be a crap date, probably the type to split the bill.

One thing I did notice in Leeds which I cannot possibly let pass without comment is that they were charging 30p to use the toilets on the main concourse. 30p? That's not even a coin! I have no problem with the principle of charging for the use of the toilets at stations (particularly when one knows that there's a free one on Platform 8) but who on Earth came up with the notion of asking people to fumble in their pockets for two seperate coins? I am willing to bet at least, ooh, 30p, let's say, that the average person does not keep coins of those denominations handy these days. I know I don't. They tried this in London a few years back and it wound me up then. Grrr.